


there are some big names in this small town

by kuro49



Category: Hustle, White Collar
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every conman has his past. Mickey Stone is Neal Caffrey's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there are some big names in this small town

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an [Untitled WC/Hustle Crossover fic](http://isagel.dreamwidth.org/175029.html) on dreamswidth by isagel, which is both brilliant and so so great, such shame that it's a wip that was written almost 5 years ago. 
> 
> For Ka. Also, why isn't there more of these two together? I mean, the appeal of just having the world's two greatest conmen in the same room is enough to blow my mind. (A sorry beforehand because this probably don't do them justice at all.)

“So what they say really is true.”

The voice is a reminder of so many things. The accent of another life in another time when his fingers aren’t so quick with cards and lifts, his eyes not so sharp as to catch every detail he could exploit. Neal steps into his apartment and immediately feels a draft of cool night air. He looks out and sees the silhouette of a man he thought he had left behind in London.

Mickey Stone turns from the edge of the balcony to face him and remarks. “You’re caught.”

Neal tugs his tie loose and drapes it over the back of a chair, smile a simple curve over his lips, “you saw Peter.”

“And the great Neal Caffrey playing lapdog to the Man.” Mickey evenly says, and it’s a statement, a fact as close to the truth as one he has (will) ever utter. “I’ve been to prison too. It wasn’t so bad as to make me fall _this_ willingly into the arms of Big Brother himself.”

“They should have transferred me to where you were then, Mickey.”

His name is said in slight disdain, in missed connections and old fallouts.

Mickey Stone watches as Neal undoes his cufflinks, blue eyes hard when he finally lifts his gaze from the edge of the table where he puts them.

“…I’m sorry, Neal.” He walks into the warmth of the loft, pass the terrace door and it’s like he can physically leave his hostility behind him the moment he comes to stand in front of the other. His hands on blatant display for a single sign of trust. “Clean slate?”

Neal doesn’t bite his lips but it does come close. With a sigh and a small shake of his head, Neal offers the other a small smile. “…Just for you, Mickey.”

He lets him pull him into his arms for a brief hug. Stalemate wipe clean, just like that.

 

“So that’s it? You are giving it all up? No more heists or ploys or Antioch manuscripts?”

He passes him a glass before they both take a seat, bottle sitting between them like a temporary truce drawn in the sand. (Because a snitch is still a snitch at the end of the day, and you don’t turn on your own kind without repercussions sometimes.) Neal knows this, Mickey knows this. But Mickey also has a rule about friends, and Neal has always been one.

Neal laughs into his drink, “you knew about that?”

“Well, I figured it was you. Only you would have thought of carrier pigeons.”

“What would you have used?” His fingers trace the neck of his glass, a subtle hint of a challenge in his question.

“I wouldn’t want Antioch manuscripts in the first place, Neal.”

“How could I forget?” Neal pours himself more, blue eyes bright with memories as he shakes his head at his own mistake, “Mickey Stone likes the long con.”

“And this isn’t one?”

Neal extends his left leg, anklet wrapping around the bone like a well-placed hand. Giving it a tap against the leg of the table, he tells him. “Only lock I’ve met that I couldn’t pick.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, exasperation deep in his voice. “Neal, you are hardly even trying then.”

There is a soft shake of his head, and then an even softer declaration. “It isn’t like that.”

Mickey raises a brow, leans forward, drawing him in. (And if Neal isn’t just as much of a conman as Mickey Stone is, he would be playing to every note and tune.) “Are you sure, Neal?”

His smile is daunting. His eyes full of things Mickey never imagined to see in the young man he once knew, met for the first time all those years ago in a bar in London.

“He is married.”

Mickey gives him a pointed look, grin earnest and question honest in return, “and when did that ever stopped Neal Caffrey before?”

 

Striking two o'clock in the morning, and well into their second bottle, Mickey runs a hand down his face and admits to him. “You know, Neal. I really thought you would outlive me.”

An anklet and the start of a four years work release ago, Neal would be confident that he could. Mickey Stone may be the best but there is always going to be something better to come along, and Neal Caffrey is one of those things. From the start, he has had nothing but potential. While art heists and white collar crime may still be his specialty, the world is a vast place and his past has always been more colorful than Peter could have ever imagined.

“…Maybe I don’t want to.”

Mickey smiles, “maybe there’s something better for you.”

Neal ducks his head, smile soft with hope over his wine stained lips, and echoes him in reply.

“Yeah, Mickey, maybe.”

It maybe a million things that will give him away but Mickey has always been better than good at reading people. So if Mickey Stone decides that Neal Caffrey has found his happy ending, then Neal probably already did.

XXX Kuro


End file.
